


All the Ways (You Say You Love Me)

by nightwalker



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Little bit of everything really, M/M, Prompt Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-26 07:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12552192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwalker/pseuds/nightwalker
Summary: A series of one-shots based around the theme of "I love you." Keith and Lance at their best and their worst, at the beginning and at the end.





	1. Over a Cup of Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this series of prompts.](http://trash-by-vouge.tumblr.com/post/132858041745/the-way-you-said-i-love-you) Each prompt is a stand-alone and can be read independently of the others.
> 
> Much thanks to musicalluna, humantrampoline85 and maplerosekisses for their help and encouragement.

Pidge staggered across the room, dropped her helmet on the floor and flopped face-first onto the couch. “If anyone needs me, I'm dead,” she announced, words mostly absorbed by the cushions. Lance could still make them out though – back at the Garrison he'd spent more than one late-night study session with Pidge curled up around a pillow and quizzing him on trig formulas while half-asleep. This was actually pretty coherent in comparison.

“You're going to smother yourself,” Shiro said. “At least take off your boots. Who raised you?”

Pidge turned her head to the side just enough to glare at him. “You know damn well who.”

Shiro grinned at her. His helmet was hanging from one hand as he ran the other through his hair. He looked tired, but somehow on him it just looked manly and heroic while Lance felt sweaty, gross and horrible. He could hate the guy sometimes. “You make an excellent point. Boots off anyway.”

Lance grabbed her ankles and hauled her legs up enough that he could wedge himself into the corner of the couch, then dropped her feet down in his lap. “Problem solved. Night.” He let his head drop back against the couch cushions and yawned so wide his jaw popped. “Ow.”

“I feel that,” Hunk said heavily. He dropped onto the couch opposite them and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees and his head hanging down. “My bones are tired. My hair is tired. My spleen is tired.”

“I think you all need to be in your own beds,” Shiro said firmly.

“Can't,” Lance said regretfully. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about a solid eight hours of sleep the way he usually thought about sex. “I have first shift on monitor duty until we have enough juice to open a gate out of Galra territory.”

He could hear Shiro shift his weight, maybe stepping closer. “I don't want you working while you're exhausted,” he said.

He was about to volunteer to take Lance's place, which was so fucking tempting, but really it just meant that _Shiro_ would be working while exhausted instead of Lance. Honestly, the guy who was going to be calling the shots if something did go down needed the sleep most of all. “Nope, I'm fine. It's just a couple of hours and then I can hand it off to Coran.” He yawned again, so wide he couldn't keep his eyes open. “It's cool. Just gotta get my second wind. I can go _all_ night.”

Pidge made a rude sound.

Hunk grunted. “I'm pretty sure I used up at least five winds today.”

“You guys were amazing out there,” Shiro said. “I'm proud of all of you. I know that wasn't easy but we did a lot of good.”

Lance groaned. “Stop inspiring me, I'm too tired to properly enjoy it.”

Keith laughed from somewhere by the door. “You do look kind of wasted,” Keith said, his voice coming closer, and then a warm, calloused hand cupped the side of Lance's face. “Come on, sit up. I made you some tea.”

“Ugh,” Lance said articulately. “I think I love you.” He opened his eyes and smiled up at Keith, who was leaning against the back of the couch and watching him with a vaguely amused smirk.

“Five years later he _thinks_ he loves me,” Keith said. “See if I make you tea again anytime soon.” He handed over the drink though – a small thermos with the lid off and wafting the earthy smell of-

“Space coffee!” Lance flung his arms up to take the thermos, forcing Keith to swat at him when he nearly knocked it out of his grasp. “Oh my god. Where did you _get_ this? My rations ran out weeks ago!”

It wasn't really _coffee_ , not exactly, just boiled roots from the Balmera that created a tea that smelled and tasted almost exactly like old fashioned Earth coffee and had nearly twice as much stimulant. Shay's family had fed it to them once and been somewhat bemused by the Paladin's enthusiasm for it. Since then every time they returned to the Balmera there was another batch waiting for them. But visits to Shay's home were few and far between and the space coffee usually ran out long before they could resupply.

“I saved some of my share for an emergency,” Keith said.

Lance ignored the implication that him being on monitor duty was an emergency. “You're giving me some of your last space coffee,” he said. “I take it back. I know I love you. You are my favorite husband.”

“I better be your only husband or I'm taking my tea back,” Keith said dryly.

Lance pulled the thermos close to his chest and shielded it with his hands as much as he could. “Well, I mean. _Hunk_.”

“We're a little married,” Hunk said without lifting his head.

“You're a lot married,” Pidge said into her cushion. Shiro nodded emphatically.

“Well, Hunk, yeah.” Keith combed his fingers through Lance's hair and didn't even make a face at how sweaty and gross it was, which was true fucking love in Lance's book. That and the space coffee. “I knew about Hunk. But no more husbands.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss against the top of Lance's head. “I love you, too,” he said, soft enough that the others probably wouldn't hear. Then he left, went to help Shiro get the others to bed.

Lance sat there for a minute, taking small sips of the tea and feeling the ache in his bones as he watched Shiro haul Hunk to his feet and propel him down the hall toward their rooms. Keith had given up trying to coax Pidge to her feet and was just dragging her off the couch by her arms while she whined low in her throat and went limp. Lance laughed and leveraged himself up off the couch. His legs and back hurt even more now than they had before he'd sat down and he could feel the muscles in his back starting to rebel. The next two hours were going to suck.

“She's ticklish,” Lance said. He stopped at Keith's side for a quick kiss. “Seriously, go for the ribs, but watch your head, she's a kicker.”

“Traitor,” Pidge whined. She aimed a kick at his shin that would have hurt like a son of a bitch if she'd had any energy at all left in her.

Keith laughed. “In a minute I'm gonna leave her here and risk Shiro's disappointed face.”

“Not the _face_ ,” Lance said. He offered Keith the thermos but Keith shook it off, leaned in for another kiss instead and licked at the taste of the tea on Lance's tongue.

“You guys do remember I'm still here, right?”

Lance broke the kiss with a sigh. “At least haul her back onto the couch before abandoning her, she'll wreck her back on the floor.”

“She'd deserve it,” Keith said. “You should go. The sooner you start monitor duty, the sooner it'll be over.” He leaned down, grabbed Pidge by the belt and hauled her up over his shoulder despite her startled yelp.

“You're sexy when you're assertive,” Lance said. Pidge snorted. “Don't knock it, short-stuff, that's a million-dollar view you've got there.” He aimed a mock-glare at her as Keith started to march toward the living quarters with a grim sort of determination. He was just as exhausted as the rest of them, Lance could tell, just better and more stubborn about hiding it. “Hands to yourself!”

“ _Lance,_ ” they said, in an exasperated chorus and he laughed.

He already felt a little better, a little less tired, a little more awake. Maybe it was the tea, but he thought it was probably the company.

“Hey.” Keith paused in the door. “When you get home, wake me up?” He gave Lance one of those smiles Lance loved the best. The tentative ones that meant he was letting himself ask for something he really wanted even if he thought it was silly or clingy. The ones it had taken years for him to really feel comfortable with. “That was... rough. Out there. I just... I want to know you make it home.”

“I will,” Lance promised. He curled his hand around the thermos as Keith and Pidge left, let the warmth of it seep into his palms for a long couple of seconds before he turned to head in the opposite direction.


	2. With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith woke up three days ago looking like death warmed over and sounding like Darth Vader with a ten-pack a day problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100% fluff with no redeeming value whatsoever.

When Lance got back to the room, Keith was just a huddled ball under the comforter.

“I brought you lunch,” Lance said. Hunk had whipped up a batch of soup – clear broth and vegetables not entirely unlike carrots – and some soft rolls made of dark brown bread that tasted nutty when you toasted it. He also had a huge mug of something that smelled a little like breath mints that Hunk swore was edible. He set everything down on the bedside table. “I know you're awake in there. Come on, you need to eat and hydrate.”

The bump under the covers didn't move, so Lance tugged at the blankets a little. “Keith.”

The blankets tugged back but otherwise there was no reaction.

Lance sighed, then grabbed the covers and flung them back as hard as he could. They billowed down on the floor with a soft whump, revealing Keith, curled up in the middle of the bed. He was wearing sweatpants and an old shirt that he'd stolen from Lance who had stolen it from Hunk and which was so big it fit him like a tent. His hair was a spiky mess, and his skin was pale except for his cheeks which were flushed red with fever. He looked miserable and cranky and decidedly unhappy to see Lance.

Lance had seen that look on him a lot when they were barely more than kids trying to save the galaxy, it had long since stopped having any effect on him. “Come on, you need to eat something.”

Keith grunted and turned his face into the mattress. “I'm not hungry.”

“Tough crap.” Lance took the bread, dunked it in the broth and shoved it in Keith's face, forcing him to grab it or get a faceful of soup. “Up, come on. Don't want you to choke.”

“If I choke maybe you'll let me sleep.” Keith's voice was hoarse, raspy and sounded like rocks grating against rusty metal. It had been making Lance's own throat hurt in sympathetic pain ever since Keith woke up three days ago looking like death warmed over and sounding like Darth Vader with a ten-pack a day problem.

“If you choke I'll have to give you mouth-to-mouth.” Lance waggled his eyebrows at him. “Maybe you just want to get my mouth on yours.”

Keith looked unimpressed. “If you resuscitate me after I choke on a hunk of soggy bread you'll just end up with my regurgitated food in your mouth.”

“Thanks for that mental image, babe. My ego isn't shattered by that at all.”

Keith didn't grin, but his mouth definitely twitched a little as he examined the bread. “Anyway, there are easier ways to get your mouth when I want it and I wouldn't have to hurt Hunk's feelings by ruining the food he made me.” He took a bite of the bread almost reluctantly, but after he chewed and swallowed he took another, more enthusiastic, bite.

“I feel like you just called me easy but I'm okay with it.” Lance sat next to him on the bed and brushed a lock of hair out of Keith's eyes. His hair was damp with sweat, and his skin too. “I think your fever is breaking.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Keith leaned into his touch for a second before he popped the last of the bread in his mouth and held out his hand for the rest. “I'm feeling a little better than I was.”

Lance handed him the rest of the bread and the little bowl of soup, hovering his hand under it for a second until he was sure Keith had a grip on it. “Good. But still take it easy for a another day, okay?”

He hated it when one of them got sick. Alien illnesses were unpredictable and since humans hadn't made their way out into the universe before this there was no real way to know if a harmless virus would turn out to be debilitating or worse. Every time one of them got sick it was a waiting game to make sure they'd be all right.

And Keith was a godawful patient, truly the worst. Even Shiro and Allura were willing to take it easy long enough to recover as long as there wasn't a disaster actively occurring around them. Pidge might crawl her way out of bed to mess around on the computer but she'd take a blanket and a thermos of hot tea with her. But Keith seemed to think the best way to fight off an illness was to completely deny its existence. Which usually resulted in him trying to sweat it out in the training room until he made himself twice as sick as he'd otherwise be or just flat out collapsed.

He'd been good this time, actually. He'd grumbled and bitched and been in a bad mood about it non-stop but he'd banished himself to bed once it had become obvious he was sick. Maybe it was the wisdom of age, or just that Shiro had banned him from the training deck. Either way, Lance would take it. He hated watching Keith run himself ragged. And honestly, he kind of liked the chance to fuss over him a little. Keith didn't tolerate that a lot when he was sick, but not at all when he was healthy.

“You're staring. It's creepy.” Keith shoved the last of the roll in his mouth and leaned across Lance's lap to reach the glass of water on the bedside table. He drank the whole thing in a few deep gulps and came up for air with a gasp. “Shit, that tastes good.”

“You're definitely feeling better.” Lance plucked the glass out of his hand and replaced it with the spearmint-smelling mug. “Here, drink a little of this for me. Hunk said it would help with your throat.”

Keith made a face but took the mug, leaning into Lance's side as he sipped. If the expression on his face was anything to go by it didn't taste very good, but Keith slowly worked his way through about half the mug before he handed it back to Lance.

It was more than Lance had hoped for, so he didn't fight him on it. “All right, get up. You're super gross, babe. Go get a shower and I'll make the bed for you.”

Keith groaned and flopped back against the pillows. “Don't lie, you like me all hot and sweaty.”

“Not in this context, nope. Doing nothing for me, sorry.” Lance grinned and tugged at Keith's wrist. “Come on, get in there.” He waited a minute, hovering without trying to be obvious as Keith dragged himself out of the bed and toward the bathroom. He was looking a little unsteady, but stronger than he had a few days ago. “Your butt looks just as good as ever though!”

Keith flipped him off before the door slid shut behind him.

Lance changed out the sheets while Keith showered, cleared away the empty soup bowl and the dregs of the tea and grabbed a couple more glasses of water. Keith came back from his shower with damp hair sticking to the back of neck and smelling like the fancy fruity body soap Lance had found on a planet they'd visited a few days before. He crawled into the freshly made bed, dragged the comforter back up over his head and went completely boneless with a deep sigh.

It was still early, but Lance kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed. He squirmed down a little until he could pull the blanket over his head and tugged Keith against his chest. “I lied, I do like you hot and sweaty.”

Keith laughed, a soft huff of breath against Lance's chest. “Pervert.” He slid his arms around Lance's waist and pressed a kiss against his collarbone. “Thanks, by the way. I know I'm kind of a jerk when I'm sick. I keep waiting for you to throw that soup in my face.”

“I'd wait till you were feeling better,” Lance said.

“That sounds fair. You're gonna get sick, too, you know.”

“It'll be worth it to have you wait on me hand and foot.” The last time Lance had been laid up Keith had pestered Shiro and Hunk nearly constantly for advice and hovered so awkwardly that Lance had eventually taken pity and sent him away.

“I would,” Keith grumbled. “Whether you liked it or not.” He sighed, and his arms tightened around Lance. “I love you.”

Lance pressed a kiss against the top of his head and listened to his raspy breathing as he went boneless and heavy in Lance's arms.


	3. The Cold, Hard Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s heart is a metronome, Lance’s is trying to pound its way out of his ribcage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "with a shuddering gasp"

“I love you,” Lance gasps.

He’s shivering, shaking in Keith’s arms. He can feel them across his chest like brands – Keith is a fucking furnace, every inch of him feels like fire against Lance’s skin. Keith’s holding him tight, pressed all along Lance’s side, his arm pressed tight against Keith’s chest where Lance can feel Keith’s heart beating steadily.

Keith’s heart is a metronome, Lance’s is trying to pound its way out of his ribcage.

They’re so close that Lance can hear the way Keith draws in a sharp breath before going completely still.

Lance closes his eyes. “Look, it’s not a big deal, I just… Thought you should know. But you don’t have to-”

“Shut up,” Keith said. His voice is harsh, loud, and Lance can’t help the way he flinches at the sound of it.

He forces himself to be still, but he can’t stop himself from shivering, cold through to his bones in more than one way. He curls his fingers and presses them against his thighs, but they’re thick and clumsy and cold. “Right. Okay. Saw that coming. Like I said it’s not a big deal.”

“Just shut the hell up, all right?” Keith pulls away, and the space between them now is almost painfully cold.

Lance hunched his shoulders, pulls his arms up to cross them over his chest. He tells himself it’s just to keep warm now that Keith isn’t holding him anymore, and that might even be partly true. He laughs a little, and it comes out weak and bitter even to his own ears. “I knew that wasn’t going to go over well, but would it have killed you to just let me down easy? Let me die with some sad little shred of dignity over here? At least pretend you don’t hate me for the next hour or two so I could die happy?”

“You’re not going to die so shut up!” Keith’s voice breaks on the final word and it startles Lance enough that he opens his eyes again.

Keith is kneeling on the cave floor beside him, staring down at Lance with narrowed eyes. His jaw is clenched so tight that one of the cuts along the lower part of his face is going to split open again soon. His hands are curled into fists at his side and his breath is coming quicker now, harder, like something had just scared him.

Behind him Lance can see the storm still raging outside the little cave they’d taken shelter in. Somewhere out in that storm is the creature that had gutted Lance, slicing open his stomach with three razor sharp claws and leaving him bleeding out in the snow.

He doesn’t remember how they got into the cave. He doesn’t really know why Keith is still there, not when the research outpost was only a few miles away. Keith, uninjured and armed, could have made that in an hour or so.

“You should get going,” Lance said. “The storm’s only supposed to get worse. You need to move now if you’re going to make it back to base.”

“What is wrong with you?” Keith slams one hand into the ground next to his knee so hard it has to hurt. Lance watches his knuckles slam into the rock but doesn’t flinch – Lance is too tired for that and anyway, Keith wouldn’t hit him, not when he couldn’t fight back at least.

“Where do you get this bullshit from?” Keith says. He sounds lost now, confused. Lance feels a quick flutter of panic that the cold is getting to Keith, too. “Why are you so determined to make me hate you? And why the hell would you want to love someone who hated you?”

“Can’t help it,” Lance says. He’s far past any kind of dignity at this point so why not be honest and spill his guts metaphorically as well as literally? He laughs again, kind of amused by himself, and has to breathe through his nose for a minute as the pain in his belly flares white-bright.

“Can’t help it,” he says again when he’s caught his breath. Keith is staring at him, his face pulled into a grimace and his hands hovering anxiously over Lance’s stomach. “Couldn’t ever help it. You’re just you, you know?” He smiles, because he can’t help himself, and watches as Keith’s mouth turns down at the corners. “You’re beautiful. Watching you fight is like a fucking wet dream. And when you pilot you’re incredible, you’re better than anyone I’ve ever seen, even Shiro.”

He lifts one hand to take one of Keith’s, curls his fingers around Keith’s fingers. They feel almost painfully warm against Lance’s skin which is probably the blood loss. Or the hypothermia. It kind of hurts to do – everything hurts right now, every breath sends a stab of pain through his gut, every movement pulls at his wounds. It’s worth it, though. He’s going to die but at least he’ll get to hold Keith’s hand for a minute.

Keith doesn’t pull away. Instead he curls his fingers into Lance’s grip and wraps his other hand over the back of Lance’s holding it between them.

“And you care,” Lance says. “Even when you don’t want to. Even when you know you shouldn’t. You cared about Allura when she turned away from you, you cared about Shiro when everyone gave him up for dead. Everyone in the universe is depending on you for something and you’ll never let any of them down.” He squeezes Keith’s hand as tightly as he can, which he doesn’t think is very hard anymore. “How the hell could I resist that? I never stood a chance.”

“Lance…”

“I did try,” Lance says. He turns his head to the side so he isn’t staring at Keith’s face anymore. “I did. To be good enough.” His lips tremble for a moment and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. “I know you never thought very much of me. I was a showoff and a goof and – I was just the fifth guy in the room, right place at the right time. I was never meant to be a paladin, not like you were.”

“No.” Keith’s hands clench around his. “No, Lance, that was never-”

“You were meant for this,” Lance says. “You were born for it. You’re going to save the universe, Keith, and I wish I could have helped you do it.” His eyes are hot and he can hear his voice starting to break on the vowels. A day ago he’d have killed himself before letting Keith see him be this weak, but he’s so cold and so tired and he can’t feel his feet anymore. The strips of cloth Keith used to put pressure on his wounds are soaked through and he can feel his own blood dripping down his sides. He’s past pride, he’s past lying to himself. He’s going to die, very, very soon and there’s nothing he can do about it.

But maybe he can do one last thing.

“So you need to go,” he says. He blinks hard, until he’s sure his eyes are clear and he looks up at Keith. “Voltron needs you. Whatever misguided sense of duty is keeping you here, let it go. The storm is coming in and you don’t have time to keep me company or – or stand guard or whatever you’re doing. You need to live.” His voice breaks finally and he closes his eyes before Keith can see him cry. “I need you to live. You have to go.”

Keith is shaking his head. “You’re a fucking idiot!” He sets Lance’s hand down carefully, almost like he’s afraid it’ll break, and then leans in close, hands planted on the ground on either side of Lance’s shoulders. “Listen to me, you self-sacrificing moron. You – you’re a fucking natural! I was in those caves a hundred times and Blue wouldn’t give me the time of day until I brought her you. Yeah, you were the fifth guy in the room, but you were the only one who mattered because you were the one Blue chose.” Keith drags in air through his teeth and he shakes his head a little. “We’d still be on Earth if you hadn’t come out to the desert to rescue Shiro. If I was meant for this it’s only because I was meant to do it with you.”

“That’s not how-”

“I said shut up!” Keith is shaking, and his eyes are bright. He’s going to cry, Lance realizes with a dull pang. Keith Kogane is going to cry over his stupid dying ass. That’s not how he’d pictured this going, not in any version of events. “How could you think I hate you? What have I ever done to make you think that?”

He hurts, and his thoughts are a little fuzzy. He’s not entirely sure he really understands what’s happening. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come so he just shakes his head a little.

He’s crying, he realizes. He can feel tears beading up in the corners of his eyes, the warmth spilling down the side of his face when he blinks.

“I don’t get you.” Keith is leaning over him, close enough that his breath is warm against Lance’s face. His thumbs stroke over Lance’s cheeks, brushing away each tear as it falls. “I don’t. Sometimes you make me so crazy. Every single being in the universe knows how I feel about you the second they see us together, everyone except you.”

Lance shook his head a little, his cheek brushing against the palm of Keith’s hand. “What?”

Keith bent down and brushed his mouth over Lance’s. It was soft and fleeting and when he pulled back his eyes had gone dark and his mouth was pressed into a hard, thin line. “I’m not leaving you here, and I’m not going to let you die. Voltron needs you too, Lance, I need you, and the team and -” He leaned in again until their foreheads touched and closed his eyes. “Stay with me. We just have to make it till morning.”

Lance reaches up to touch his fingers against Keith’s cheek. It hurts, it hurts, the ache in his gut is constant now and every little movement makes it worse and his fingers are numb and bloodless. They look white against Keith’s skin and his warmth actually hurts to touch, but Lance doesn’t pull them back. He feels a little tentative, not sure if this is allowed or if he’s going to shatter some sort of blood-loss induced hallucination. “If I live through this and it turns out this was just you trying to make me happy before I died, I’ll understand.”

“You’re going to live through this if it kills me,” Keith says without opening his eyes. “If you die I will find you and I will bring you back, and I will be _pissed_ do you understand me? Lance.” He opens his eyes finally and Lance can’t remember the last time he saw that look on Keith’s face. Not since they lost Shiro, probably, not since the time Keith left them to go fight with the Blades. “Lance. I can’t do this without you. Just stay with me till morning, please. _Lance_.”

He can hear Keith calling him, his voice echoing in the distance, far, far away. It’s comforting, somehow, and Lance lets go, falls into the silence where it’s warm and safe and nothing hurts.

****

He hears Keith again, later.

It’s warmer now, and the ache in his belly is a phantom pain, barely remembered. He can hear voices, the clamor of the other paladins, Coran’s cheerful admonitions, Allura calm and amused in the background. Blue is purring softly in the back of his mind.

Keith calls him, again, and Lance opens his eyes.

He’s sitting on the floor in front of one of the healing tubes and his teammates are crouched around him in a semi-circle. Lance blinks, a little, everything still kind of hazy, their words clear but the meanings taking a moment or two to process. He’s always a little slow to wake up when they put him in the tube, they should know that by now.

Someone touches his hand and it doesn’t hurt. Lance looks over and Keith is there. The blood-splattered parka is gone – thank goodness, looking at Keith covered in his blood had been kind of freaking Lance out, to be honest – and the scratches on his face had long since healed. He’s staring at Lance with an intensity that makes him feel raw and exposed.

“Hey,” Lance says. His lips are chapped and his throat is dry. The words are scratchy and catch a little but he thinks he’s getting through to them. “Hey, I didn’t die.”

Keith shakes his head a little. “I told you I wouldn’t let you.”

“I still love you, though.”

He’s vaguely aware of the others watching but he doesn’t care. None of it matters, they’d all known anyway. Lance is aware that he was kind of fucking obvious. The only person who hadn’t know was the one person who’d needed to, apparently.

Keith was right, Lance was a moron. They were both morons. God, they deserved each other. The thought is strangely heartening.

Keith smiles, a slow, shy curve of his mouth that makes Lance want to kiss him. “I still love you, too.” This time his voice is the one that breaks on the words and he drags in a breath that’s nothing more than a shuddering gasp before he pulls Lance into his arms. “I still love you, too.”


	4. Say It Out Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't how he'd meant to say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "as a scream"

_“Because I love you!”_

Silence drops over the room like an anvil, so heavy Keith can almost hear it. He can feel their eyes on him – the Blades, Allura, the other paladins. Shiro is watching him from over Lance's shoulder, mouth pulled into a sympathetic grimace.

Lance is staring at him, eyes wide and shocked. He's completely still, almost frozen, like he's braced for a blow. It makes his stomach hurt, that Lance could look at him like that, but it isn't a surprise. There's a reason he'd never said anything.

He’d known perfectly well that Lance would never want to hear the words. It just hurt more than he'd expected to have that knowledge confirmed.

“This isn't really about you,” he says finally. “Okay? Can you just... not? For once? I know you're the best sniper we have and I know you can pilot rings around almost everyone else in this room and I know that you know how to get the job done. But I don't trust them to bring you back alive and I just... I can't. I won't. So yeah, you're going with Shiro and I'm going to let one of the Blades take the shot because if I send you on this mission and you don't come back it would literally kill me.”

Hunk and Pidge are looking back and forth between them like they're watching a tennis match and Shiro and Allura are pretending they can't hear anything. Coran is watching Lance with a sort of pained look. Keith feels a little like someone has peeled a few layers of his skin off.

“This is about me,” he says finally when it's painfully clear Lance doesn't have anything to contribute to the conversation. “It's my failing as a leader. I'm sorry but I won't call the strike team back. There's almost nothing about this war I can control but if I can keep you alive that makes everything worth it. And I know you hate me for holding you back and I know you didn't ask for me to feel this way, but I can't help it. And I wouldn't change it. Not for anything.”

There's a resounding sort of silence when he finishes speaking, then a sudden flurry of noise and conversation as the others find something to do besides gawk. He's aware of Coran shooing Shiro away when it looks like he's about to intervene, and Allura dealing with the remaining Blades.

Keith feels strangely weightless, like when he'd take the speeder out into the desert and take the hills at top speed. There was always a split-second as the ground dropped out beneath him on the other side before gravity kicked in again and he started to fall.

Lance looks at him, really looks at him for the first time since this argument started and Keith feels gravity slam into him again.

****


	5. The Darkest Night (has the brightest stars)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The distress signal had been broadcasting for so long that no one really believed anyone was going to respond. Lance kept pretending though, because this was all they had to hold on to. 
> 
> He knows his team will come for him someday, but someday is rapidly running out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was based on the prompt "As a Hello" and this scenario was literally the first thing that popped into my head. Thanks to asktheravens for her help!
> 
> Please see end notes for warnings.

The distress signal had been broadcasting for so long that no one really believed anyone was going to respond. Lance kept pretending though, because this was all they had to hold on to. There was no way off the prison station unless rescue came, and their resources and their power were dwindling faster than they'd calculated.

Not for the first time he found himself wishing for Hunk or Pidge or Matt. Oh, not sincerely, he'd have done anything to spare them the experience of being a prisoner of the Galra, but they'd have figured out how to boost the signal or get more power out of the generators or build a fucking shuttle out of spare parts so they could leave instead of waiting for help that was never going to come. If Voltron was going to find him they'd have done it months ago. After this long... they thought he was dead. Or they'd accepted that they had to move on.

In his darker moments he wasn't sure they'd bothered looking at all. With Shiro back in Black and Keith back in Red, and Allura a stronger paladin for Blue than he'd ever been... Part of him knew it wasn't true, that even if he wasn't the strongest or most valuable fighter, they'd have come anyway. Hunk was his best friend, and Coran like him, and Shiro wouldn't leave any of them behind if he had any breath in his body. Anyway, Pidge had once called him her brother and she'd gotten herself shot into space to find the last brother that went missing so...

And Keith. He wasn't sure, they'd never said it, but he was pretty sure Keith loved him. At least enough to look for him.

But it was a big universe. And Voltron had a mission that didn't involve searching down one wayward extraneous paladin. They could fight the good fight without him and would have to. He knew that. He didn't want them to leave the front lines for his sake anyway.

He just. He just really, really wanted to hear their voices again. Just one more time.

He was alone on the bridge, the only one left keeping watch in the dark. They’d shut down the power to everything but the water purifiers and the oxygen scrubbers weeks ago, leaving the station in near permanent darkness, lit only by the starlight through the view ports. The other prisoners stayed below, most of them choosing to sleep the days away, too tired and hungry and cold to face another day. Sometimes Lance thought it would have been better if the Galra had just executed them all and been done with it. Leaving them there to slowly starve - maybe they just hadn’t been worth the energy to kill.

He could still remember the dawning realization that the guards were gone, that no one had brought food or water in nearly a day. He could still hear the sounds of panic spreading through the holding cells as three dozen political prisoners suddenly realized they'd been left to die. They'd gotten free, though, they'd rationed the supplies, they'd set off a distress signal. And they'd waited.

Six weeks later, the supplies were nearly gone and hope was dwindling with every gulp of clean water and every breath of recycled air. Lance was so tired all the time now and he'd given up what little portion of food he'd been allotted so there'd be that much more for the others, for whatever little good it did. They were nearly at the end.

“I miss you guys,” Lance said quietly, his voice echoing slightly through the empty room. The bridge was one of the brightest places left on the station and he'd given up getting one of the other prisoners to relieve him. If he was going to die here then he'd at least die somewhere he could see the stars. The main viewscreen was black of course, gone with everything else when they'd shut down the power, but there were viewports along the side of the bridge and Lance had taken up a place beneath them, where he could lean back and count the stars and pretend he'd be out among them again someday. “It's fine, I'm gonna be okay.”

He didn't want them to find him anymore. Didn't want them to get there in time to find him dead and wasted away with the dozens of people he couldn't manage to save. He didn't want Hunk and Pidge to remember him like that, didn't want his death to be one more burden on Shiro's shoulders. Maybe if he was lucky they'd think he went out in a blaze of glory instead of rotting in a cell for six months, getting tortured and beat up by the guards until they finally convinced themselves he was useless. Maybe they'd think he died doing something useful, instead of letting three dozen people die with him.

He'd give anything not to die like this. Or to at least save the others. No one was dead yet, as far as he knew, but that was going to change soon. He'd even welcome the Galra at this point, as long as they came with food and water.

Prison was better than death, you can always escape from prison. He'd told himself that for six long, lonely months and there were times it was the only thing that kept him sane. You can always get rescued from prison. They'd find him, they would, soon, soon, _someday_.

Someday had about run out of time. It was okay. He'd be all right.

“You would have come if you could have,” he said. His mouth was dry and his throat ached. His lips felt stretched tight. He wasn't really a hundred percent sure he was talking out loud or if it was just in his head. Didn't really matter because no one was there to hear him. No one ever would, either.

His heartbeat was fluttering rapidly in his chest and he was so, so tired.

He wanted Keith. He wanted calloused hands to cup his face. He wanted to hear Keith's heart beating beneath his ear. He wanted to hear the way Keith's voice sounded when he said Lance's name. He wanted to be held one last time. He wanted to tell Keith he loved him and would miss him even if Keith didn't want to say it back.

Lance was pretty sure he would have though. He'd never get the chance to find out for sure, but he was almost positive.

If he closed his eyes he thought he could hear Keith's voice.

_-repeat, this is the Castle of Lions, responding to a distress call on this frequency._

The station trembled, just a little, the way it used to when the Galra supply ships came in to dock. Lance blinked his eyes open, not sure if he'd been asleep or not, and caught a flicker of movement through the viewport.

Something black, he thought maybe.

_Unidentified Galra space station, you are in territory that has been claimed by the Voltron Alliance. We are willing to offer assistance. Please lay down your weapons. If you open fire, we will retaliate._

Yeah, that sounded exactly like Keith. Lance couldn't help the way his lips turned up in a grin. That was exactly how he'd sound. Terse and cautious and concerned. Keith acted like a badass but he just wanted to help people. He just didn't always know how to do that off the battlefield. He was learning though, he was becoming the leader Shiro had always thought he was capable of being. Lance would have liked to see that happen. Maybe he could. Maybe wherever he was going they'd let him see his team again, keep an eye on them, even if he couldn't fight alongside them anymore. Maybe one day he'd see Keith and Hunk and Allura again.

_Unidentified Galra station, if anyone is aboard, please respond. We have received your distress signal and we are coming to offer assistance. Please respond. Unidentified Galra station, we are preparing to board. Please respond._

Lance blinked his eyes open again, not sure when he'd closed them. He could hear something, like a rumble of thunder over the ocean, the distant roar of a tsunami.

Blue, fierce and brilliant and bright. She felt like clear cold water and the rush of a riptide, and it shocked him back awake in a way he hadn't been in days.

He could hear the rumble again but this time it was a roar, close enough for him to hear through the station walls – or the radio, _the radio._

He tried to scramble to his feet but he couldn't manage it. He had to drag himself up against the wall and all but staggered to the nearest console. Even then his legs barely supported him and he collapsed against it, the edge digging sharply into his hip. His fingers were clumsy as he reached for the controls, and he felt his breath coming faster, in harsh pants as a sense of panic set in. No, no, no. Don't leave. Please no, not now.

Maybe he was dreaming this, or hallucinating, but he didn't care. Let him die with Keith's voice in his ears and Blue's thoughts in his head.

He made himself slow down, moved his hand slowly as he hit the keys to broadcast. It took a couple of seconds that lasted a thousand years.

_“Galra station, we are attempting to offer aid. Please respond.”_

“Keith,” he said, which wasn't quite what he'd intended to say. “Hey. I love you.”

The voice that fills the room is harsh. _“Lance?”_ His name sounds rough in Keith's mouth, like he'd had to spit the word out.

Lance closed his eyes and let himself slide to the floor where he rested his head against the console. “You knew that, right, babe?”

_“Where are you? Shiro and Hunk are boarding the station right now, they're going to come get you. Where are you?”_

“By the stars.” Lance's tongue tripped over his teeth, he wasn't a hundred percent sure how coherent that was. “Up top. I missed you guys.”

Keith's voice was ragged and he sounded weird. _“We missed you too, Lance. It's okay, we're here, we found you. Shiro's coming to get you. Just. Oh god, Lance please say something. Keep talking to me.”_

“Sorry,” Lance said, and the words were definitely slurred now, his tongue thick in his mouth. “Tired.”

 _“No,”_ Keith said. _“No, no, no. Don't do this to me. Please. Lance.”_

His body felt strangely heavy, all the way down to his bones. He thought that if he tried to move he'd get up and leave it behind, no longer strong enough to keep the flesh and bones under control.

_“I did know. I did. I should have said so. I should have said a lot of things.”_

Blue's thoughts rumbled at the back of his mind like a purr. He reached out and she brushed against his thoughts, warm and happy to see him. He could hear the others now, the soft warmth of the bond with Red that had never really faded, and Pidge sharp and fast like a hummingbird. Hunk's steady support was tinged with a rough edge of fear. Shiro was there, projecting calm and strength in equal measure. And he could feel Keith, fire-bright and flickering at the corners of his mind. They were tripping over each other, all he could really hear was a steady rush of relief and joy. _We found him, we found him._

_“We never stopped looking for you, Lance. We never would have. We knew you were too tough to let the Galra beat you.”_

It's not entirely true, but it makes him feel better to hear it. They had almost beaten him. But it was okay now. His team was here. He'd be okay.

He heard Hunk's voice, soothing, steady, threaded with concern. He was nearby, so close, Lance thought if he had any tears left he might have cried then. A warm hand touched his face and urged his chip up. Blue called to him to open his eyes so he did, as much as he could, and Shiro's worried frown broke into a grin. “There you are.”

 _“Lance.”_ Keith's voice was shaking, broken. Lance had never heard him sound like that before. _“I love you too. But you already knew that.”_

Lance let his eyes slip closed as Shiro pulled him up into his arms. “I did. I knew that already.”

His team was here. Whatever happened, he'd be okay.

He let himself slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is discussion of torture and canon-typical violence but it happens off-screen. The ending is ambiguous as to whether or not Lance survives (I say he does, but feel free to interpret it however you want!)


	6. Diplomatic Incidents Are Our Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was waiting for Shiro to step in, or for Pidge to climb across the table and start stabbing people, but it was Keith who finally snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure personal gratification, let's be real about this. :)

It was Keith who finally snapped.

He'd sat there at first, stone-faced and straight-backed as Iverson started in on his testimony. Technically nothing the man said was untrue, though it was heavily biased against them. Reckless and disobedient, he'd said, amongst other, less professional assessments of their behavior. Keith didn't bother getting angry about it, Iverson's opinion meant less than nothing to him and he honestly didn't care what the tribunal decided. The only reason they were there was because Shiro thought playing along and clearing the air would convince EarthGov they were acting in good faith. 

As if sacrificing several years of their lives to defend humanity, not to mention thousands of other races through out the universe, wasn't a good enough gesture. 

But Allura had agreed with Shiro and Pidge and Hunk and Lance had agreed to go through with it and they were supposed to be a damn team so here Keith was, letting the same blind old fools who'd lied about Shiro's disappearance and expelled him for trying to find the truth sit in judgment of him _again_.

That part didn't really bother him. People whose opinions mattered far more than the Garrison's had disapproved of him in the past. After facing Allura's cold disdain, the Blades disgust, and Shiro's disappointment, this was nothing.

It was when they started in on his team that he couldn't take it anymore.

He remembered Iverson, vaguely. He remembered not liking him, or particularly respecting him as an instructor, but Keith was self aware enough to know that described most of the instructors at the Garrison (as well as several members of the Blades of Mormorra and not a few members of the Voltron Alliance Council). He was prepared to tune the man out and wait for this nonsense to be over, but Lance had drawn in a slow, sharp breath, and his face had gone blank in a way that Keith hated. Across the table Hunk and Pidge had exchanged a single furtive glance before Hunk ducked his head to study the table and Pidge had turned the full force of her gaze on Iverson, eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a thin, hard line.

He'd had choice words for Pidge and Hunk, accusing them of not taking their studies seriously, of stealing Garrison equipment for personal projects, of breaking curfew and talking back to instructors. Honestly, as much as Iverson's tone got Keith's back up, Keith believed most of it, at least of Pidge. From the stories the three of them had told about their Garrison days, he could see most of it happening, although more innocently than Iverson was implying. Everyone broke curfew or snuck something out of the dining hall or workshops. Everyone went off campus to go to a party or meet a girlfriend or boyfriend or – in Lance's and Hunk's case apparently – eat pizza and play video games till three in the morning.

But then he'd started in on Lance, and Keith's blood ran hot.

“I have never, in all my years at the Garrison, seen such a grossly unqualified and inadequate candidate for the fighter pilot position.” Iverson barely glanced at Lance, waving a hand in his direction the way you'd casually swat at a fly that was buzzing around your meal. “Insolent. Disobedient. _Incompetent_. He didn't belong at the Garrison at all, let alone in such a prestigious program. Frankly if he hadn't gone AWOL I'd have had him dismissed before the end of the semester. I've never seen anyone so thoroughly unqualified. His actions on the night in question only further indicate that he couldn't be trusted.”

Lance didn't so much as bat an eye, his face still blank and expressionless, but Keith could see the embarrassment in his eyes, the humiliation at being spoken of that way and it made him want to ring Iverson's neck. He touched his hand to Lance's under the table, but Lance didn't reach back, didn't look at him. His face was pale, and his hand was trembling beneath Keith's.

Iverson was just warming up though. “From the first day he was nothing but a distraction to the other students. Instead of being grateful for the opportunity – one he hadn't earned, by the way, and certainly didn't deserve –”

“Oh, _fuck you_ ,” Keith said without meaning to.

He didn't really recognize that he'd spoken until the room went silent and Iverson turned to face him, face red and eyes narrowed. “What did you say, cadet?”

“I'm not a cadet,” Keith said. “You expelled me because I threatened to reveal that the Garrison had faked my friend's death. Remember?”

One of the generals – Keith hadn't bothered to learn their names, but it was the least bald of the four – spoke up. “The Garrison categorically denies-”

“Shiro, are you dead?” Keith asked.

“Not today,” Shiro said easily. He had a pencil in one hand and was tapping the eraser end against the table with hard, almost violent jabs. There was a vein throbbing in his forehead in a way that meant he was about to kill someone and he was clenching his teeth so hard Keith was a little afraid for his jaw.

“Faked,” Keith snapped. “Which the Garrison has so far refused to apologize for, an act of disrespect toward the Black Paladin of Voltron that the Alliance Council will absolutely hear about, by the way.”

“Mr. Kogane-”

“Paladin,” Keith said. “Paladin Kogane. Or Red Paladin, if you prefer.” None of them had insisted on titles or ranks, but Keith was done being friendly, he was done being diplomatic and he was fucking done currying favor with anyone who would talk about his team like that. “And I demand Instructor Iverson apologize for his blatantly biased attack on Paladin McClain's character. _Now._ ”

“Like hell I will,” Iverson said. His face was getting redder by the second and his chest was puffed out in indignation. “Where do you get off-”

“Where do you get off!” Keith shouted. “How dare you stand there and judge anyone when all any of you did was lie and stick your heads in the sand. You faked three people's deaths and when Shiro fought his way through a Galra warship to warn you of the impending invasion you treated him like a criminal and tried to lock him up and silence him. Meanwhile those three-” He splayed his hand out, loosely encompassing Hunk and Pidge and Lance. “-risked their lives and their futures at the Garrison to help him. And when he told them Earth was in danger, they did something about it. And you have the nerve to call them irresponsible?”

Pidge was smirking openly, and Hunk was staring back and forth between Keith and Iverson with an expression like a kid in a candy store. Even Shiro's jaw was slowly unclenching.

Lance tilted his head slightly, looked up at Keith with wide eyes. 

“And don't even get me started on his testimony on Paladin McClain's character,” Keith said. “As a seventeen-year-old trainee, Paladin McClain managed to pilot an alien warship in defense of this planet and win. He single-handedly destroyed the Galra invasion force that was in orbit around this planet, the invasion force Shiro had tried to warn you about and which you ignored in favor of covering up your own lies and incompetence. And then he willingly sacrificed the next six years of his life to fighting a war the scope of which literally no one on Earth had even conceived of before. He's liberated entire planets, he's risked his life, he's saved entire civilizations. He's one of the top three pilots in the entire Alliance fleet and you have the _nerve_ to stand here and tell me to my face that he didn't deserve to be your student? Go to hell.”

“You can't take that tone with me, cadet! You will speak with respect when you address a Garrison instructor.”

“You don't deserve my respect,” Keith said. “And I won't stand here and listen to you malign brave soldiers who risked their lives while you hid from the truth.”

Iverson sputtered. “That imbecile couldn't pilot his way out of a paper bag!”

“Quiznaking son of a-” Keith lunged toward the head of the table, stopped only by Lance's arm around his waist and Shiro's sharp look. “If you ever talk about him that way again I'll break your face so you can't. Understand me?”

“Keith,” Shiro said. He stood and the entire room fell silent as he leveled Iverson with a glare that would have sent Zarkon running for the hills. “The four of you are dismissed. Wait for me downstairs, I won't be long.”

Keith drew in a deep breath through his nose, forced himself to stand down. “Yes sir.” The others chorused their agreement and stood to leave.

“We didn't give you permission to leave,” one of the generals said. “This is hardly over.”

“Yes it is.” Shiro gave them a pointed glare. “Go.”

Lance squeezed Keith's waist once, quickly, before he moved toward the door, probably a warning not to go for Iverson's throat again. It wasn't necessary. Shiro was practically incandescent with fury and there was nothing Keith could do to these assholes that would be worse than whatever Shiro was about to dish out.

The four of them filtered out of the room, Pidge closing the door behind her nearly silently, though Keith could tell she was dying to slam it so hard the building shook. None of them spoke, even as they heard Shiro's voice through the door, deceptively soft. Instead they piled into the elevator and rode to the lobby in silence.

There was a little corner by the windows with a few chairs and they gathered there, though only Hunk took a seat, promptly burying his face in his hands. “I cannot believe,” he said, voice muffled, “that you called Iverson a quiznaking son of a bitch. Dude. That was crazy stupid. Amazing, don't get me wrong. But crazy stupid.”

“Crazy stupid is my thing,” Keith said. He still felt hot, ready to take a swing at any moment if they needed him to. He didn't regret a damned thing in there, except that he'd let Iverson provoke him into threatening him. But even that he couldn't really regret. Iverson had earned it, and Keith wouldn't let anyone speak to his team that way, not even for the sake of diplomacy.

He wouldn't let anyone talk about Lance that way, not for any reason.

Lance was standing next to him, hands clenched into fists at his sides, still pale and shaken. This time when Keith touched his hand, Lance reached back, linking their fingers together and letting Keith tug him closer so Hunk and Pidge and Keith were essentially circling him, shielding him.

“I love you,” Lance said. He offered Keith a tired smile, one corner of his mouth quirked up. “That memory is going to keep me warm through some dark moments in the future, let me tell you.”

Keith lifted their joined hands so he could press a kiss against Lance's knuckles. “I thought keeping you warm was my job.”

“You shouldn't have done that,” Lance said. He squeezed Keith's hand. “I really appreciated it, don't get me wrong, but... It's not worth risking bringing Earth into the Voltron Alliance just to soothe my ego.”

“Fuck your ego,” Keith said. “He had no right. And I sincerely doubt that Earth will break off diplomatic negotiations because one idiot teacher got his panties in a wad.”

“If they do, we'll just defend them without their permission,” Pidge said. “And then instead of being our victorious allies, they'll just have to be grateful and Allura can browbeat them into anything she wants. It really works out for us either way.”

“You're diabolical,” Lance told her. “This is our homeworld.”

“So?” Pidge shrugged. “Have you met a planet where the politicians weren't assholes? No.”

“I wonder if Shiro's killing them?” Hunk said, still talking to his palms. “Did you see his face? I thought he was going to chew Iverson's head off.”

“Yeah, Iverson's a goner,” Pidge said. She flopped down on the chair across from Hunk's and swung sideways so she could hook her knees over the arm. She pulled a datapad out of somewhere and started tapping away at it. Probably hacking the security feeds. 

Lance gripped Keith's hand. “Did you mean it?” he asked, softly enough that maybe Pidge and Hunk couldn't hear, or at least softly enough that he could pretend they didn't.

“Which part?” Keith asked. “When I called him a son of a bitch or when I called him a coward?”

Lance shook his head. “What you said about me. I was just – it's okay if you didn't,” he said quickly. “It means a lot that you were willing to say it anyway, I just wondered.”

“Of course I meant it,” Keith said indignantly. “You have more bravery and dedication in your little finger than he has in his entire stupid-”

“No, not that part. What you said about me being the third best pilot in the Alliance.”

Keith blinked. “I literally told a room full of generals you were a war hero and you're fishing for compliments about your piloting?”

Lance grinned. “Keith, I know you think I'm brave and heroic. But you've never complimented my flying before. _Ever._ ”

“I cannot believe I caused a diplomatic incident for you,” Keith told him.

“You were going to break Iverson's face for me.” Lance's eyes were bright and his skin had gone back to its usual color. His hand squeezed Keith's tightly. 

Keith grinned. “Yeah, well. I love you, too.”


End file.
